This time last year was quite a different thing. Quite different indeed.

While deep down, even in the very depths, I knew I would eventually be some kind of ok, I was somewhere I didn’t want to be. Defeated, separate and heading into a future I had not exactly chosen.

Except I had. By not wanting the stalemate of the present to continue I made the move. I took control by giving up. I finally stopped expecting change to happen without me making it. Not really rocket science when you think about it. Waiting for someone else to make your decisions for you is definitely the road I don’t want to be on.

So I chose a road I didn’t know. It’s not like the single life of my twenties, full of friendships and possibilities and adventures. Except it is. Just a different version. The friendships – such joy and security and strength- haven’t changed. They have reassured me that, in spite of the drama and trauma, I’m still me. Able to laugh, be ridiculous, be a bit rubbish – and none of those things are anything to do with breaking up.

The adventures were/are different. Not because I’m not able to do the things I did in my younger single days, but, quite frankly, I can’t be arsed. Two internet dates and one very strange interaction were quite enough to let me know that I will find my own way. Swiping is not for me.

The possibility of all sorts is out there. And the struggles of being broke and far too busy are no reason not to head into them. I’m not sure of what lies ahead. But that’s fine by me. I’m ready now.

And what of him? How does he seem? It’s hard to tell. It has taken nearly a year for him to ask how I am – and be ready for an honest answer – but maybe that wasn’t any different than before. He has learned to manage alone, to be responsible for himself, mostly. He doesn’t seem particularly happier for it but may be that wasn’t the goal. He’s less angry, and I’m less sympathetic. Possibly not the worst combination.

There have been highs and lows – what year doesn’t have them? But it’s been helpful to remind myself where I was and where I am now. That I fixed me up fine – with support and laughter and a hearty dose of ‘get a bloody grip woman!’ I like to (only occasionally) read the early posts – I’m proud of that part of me. Mostly. I’m sure I was a complete arse on occasions. But I tried not to be. And I tried to make things ok. Because when you ask yourself “Can we do this well?” You have to really decide to say yes. Not just hope. The breakup fairy doesn’t pop over with a sprinkling of amicable powder to help you in your way. And it is up to you how you are. I have no say about how someone else is. I can moan or complain, but it really doesn’t help. No one else is keeping count so point scoring is pointless.

But… I think we’ve done ok. Our first year. And a year of firsts. It’s finished. Could have been worse, could have been better, but it’s certainly been a year.